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Playlist:

If I Saved My Heart for You-Carrie Underwood

Beautiful-Christina Aguilera


I am up before the sun, and I watch it rise above the city from where I stand in front of the windows in our apartment. My foot is cold against the smooth wood floor, and I lean heavily against the crutch that rests in my armpit.

The hues of yellow and orange dominate the sky behind the skyscrapers and other candy-colored buildings of the Capital.

I did try to sleep last night, but I only got a few hours' worth, no more than four, at the most. I awoke to myself screaming, and if you listen carefully during the night, you can hear the Victors above and below you scream as well. But not Finnick, he never makes a noise. He doesn't know why though, at least, he didn't the one time that I asked him.

I continue starring out the window; the people of the Capital are already up and about. The screen that shows the bets for the Quell is on, as always. I'm the third favorite to win, coming behind Katniss and Finnick. Peeta is tied with me at the moment. My grip tightens on the crutch in anger.

They bet on who will be the last to be alive. It's sick.


Finnick's POV


I come to a halt when I see her, just standing, starring out over the city. My eyes bring back the same image, seven years earlier. There are differences though, she has two legs then, and is leaning into the firm and steady body of the boy she got reaped with. His arm is draped around her shoulders, holding her close to him as they look out.

He leans down, whispering something in her ear that makes her laugh. It's a musical noise, which fills the whole room. A grin spreads across my face at the two of them as he bumps his hip against hers.

"Fuck!" The hissing curse brings me back to the real world to see who she is now. Taller, her hair is shorter though and does not shine as it used to. She's still beautiful though, no one could deny that. I look to her crutch; the handle breaks off and falls to the ground as she lets her hand out of a fist.

I would go up and offer my help, but I know that she will refuse it. She doesn't like charity, and that's what she will see it as.

Instead I make my way into the dining room, taking a seat and only having to wait a matter of seconds before food is placed before me. Stell hops into the room a few moments after I start eating. She lets out a huff, plopping rather ungracefully down into her chair.

"You ready for the sessions?" I ask her and she looks up from stuffing a waffle in her mouth.

"I guess so, you?"

"I have a few ideas." She nods, her focus going back to her food.


Stell's POV


It's wonderful how easily forming the clay comes back to me once my hands are on it.

I keep my body between what I make and the gamemakers, so that they cannot see what I am doing. The statue comes to shape easily and quickly. I use my fingernail to carve in the details.

A cremation of Seneca Crane's face looks back at me as I pour water into the hollow head. A splash of red paint makes the water look like blood and I cover it with clay.

I used to make pots back home when I was a small child. Alongside my mother, who kept up financially with our family by selling them before she got a job in the factory. I remember sitting down by the ocean with her, digging down deep enough until the ground was just as we needed it to be. She would make all different types of pots and show me how. Coil pots, slab pots, anything really. We would bring the clay home and it would dry overnight. This clay, the Capital kind, dries quickly though, only in a few minutes, so I only wait a few seconds before stepping back and walking over to the tridents.

I feel their eyes on me as I walk to the target range, throwing the trident so that it hits the bull's-eye of the targets. I hit the moving holographic targets next; piercing threw them easily before dropping to a knee, hitting one with the hilt of the trident before I spin around and let it fly out of my hand

It pierces the face of Seneca Crane right between the eyes, shattering the clay into pieces, the red water spattering across the floor. It is an amazing sight really. The head I had made, just a few minutes before, bursting into pieces as the weapon breaks it apart. I know that they saw the face I made of it, and I know they see what, hypothetically, I have just done.

I killed last year's head Gamemaker. I know that he was killed, for letting Katniss and Peeta survive, one of the secrets that was whispered to me months ago. A few weeks before I started with Finnick, before I had even come home from the Games.

The room is silent as I walk towards the exit door.

"Ms Mere!" I stop and turn my head when they call out to me. "Aren't you going to wait to be excused?" It's Eramus who asks me. He has been a gamemaker for several years now, purchased my old services many times in fact, but is not the Head Gamemaker. I let out a breath and smile up at him.

"No, you don't own me anymore." I turn my attention back around and walk briskly to the door, which opens in front of me. I make my way down the hallway, only to turn the corner and see Finnick leaning up against the wall. One leg bent, his foot flat against the wall and arms crossed over his chest. His hair falls slightly over his eyes and I don't stop, but walk up to him, pushing it back. It's a futile thing, for it only falls back into place.

"You've always been such a taciturn person, since the Games." He says, almost to himself before he looks up so our gazes meet. "Why is that?" I don't respond immediately, but I think my answer over in my head.

I saw death. Lots of death. I saw darkness and nightmares come true before my eyes. But I know that's not the kind of answer he is looking for. Those are excuses, not answers.

"Because I learned that it's better to speak through actions, than with words." It sounds like a good reason, a good answer to me. Finnick nods.

"But you are good with words."

"Sometimes." I give him a small half-hearted grin before looking an arm through the space between his elbow and ribcage. "Come on, we have some time."


That night, three tens are awarded for the first time in Hunger Games history.

One to Katniss.

One to Peeta.

And one to me.


So sorry for the long wait! Life's been super busy right now with school and everything, but I'm hoping to update more! I've been posting some short writing stuff to my tumblr recently. Its not all HG related. Right now I'll be posting short writings of an OC/Ky Markham thing that I do between sets of homework. Really short things, less than a thousand words each but if you want to read those my tumblr is rverzuk

Thanks!